


Not This Time

by Inner_Devil



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anger, Complete, Drugs, Ficlet, M/M, Oneshot, Worry, high, one chapter, the list
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 21:39:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5642905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inner_Devil/pseuds/Inner_Devil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock have been best friends for years. But when John leaves for the day for work at a clinic just outside London, Sherlock can't handle the loneliness. It's John or the drugs and John is gone. He starts using again, only to have John return home later and find him high. How will John react? Will he leave permanently?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not This Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [johnlocked.tumblr.com](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=johnlocked.tumblr.com).



> Sweet ending with no smut, I swear! It may make you cry, but it's really cute.

Sherlock and John had had feelings for one another for years now, but neither had dared to make a move. Sure, there'd been the handful of nights when they'd been high from the rush of adrenaline and had made out. They spent some nights together, cuddling close and watching films. But neither man had ever voiced his true feelings and neither dared. But John had stopped seeing as many women as he normally did. He wasn't interested in the women who flirted with him most of the time. None of them were Sherlock. Not even the women at work could get through to him, but it didn't matter. He was always happy when he'd spent a good night with Sherlock.

John continued to work as a doctor, though he had to change clinics. Now he worked just outside London. It was a bit of a drive to get to work each day, sure. But he enjoyed the work there more and he was doing harder things. It was all still fairly simple for him, but more challenging than what he'd been doing before. He didn't realise the real trouble with the new job he had. Sherlock. With John being gone for an extra couple of hours each day, Sherlock started to get worse and worse. Normally, John was home enough during the day that Sherlock didn't feel the need for drugs. The nicotine patches handled that. But now.....now those demons were coming back. And they were screaming, starved for attention. Sure enough, Sherlock could hardly manage. One day, when John had left for work, Sherlock ended up curled up on the floor, trying to fight off the demons again. But he finally couldn't handle it. That afternoon, he bought cocaine, morphine, and heroin and brought it all back to the flat. When John came home that evening, he found Sherlock curled up on the floor, very clearly high.

"Sherlock! What the hell are you doing?!" John snapped, rushing over. He was very clearly angry and Sherlock pouted a little. 

"I.....I couldn't.....couldn't help it anymore," Sherlock admitted. "I couldn't. I needed it, John. I had to use again and I couldn't stop. I can't. I just can't! I can't stop it, John. Damn it! I need you, please.....Fix it...."

John sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Come on. Up you get," he insisted, helping Sherlock to his feet.

As Sherlock swayed, the detective handed over a folded up slip of paper. John took it with trembling hands, but just steered Sherlock to bed and tucked him in. Not yet. He wouldn't look yet. Right now, Sherlock was his priority. Nothing else mattered right now. He grabbed a chair and sat it beside Sherlock's bed, sitting down next to the drugged up brunette. He held the other's hand gently, running his thumb over the back and just silently letting Sherlock know he wasn't alone. Not this time. He wasn't in some drug den just waiting for someone to come pick him up so he could do it again. He was home and John was there and he cared. He stayed.

Eventually, the bad part started. John knew it was bound to happen eventually. Sherlock started writhe, tossing and turning in his bed and whimpering softly. John knew it would happen and reached over, enveloping Sherlock in his arms and holding him close. Neither man said a word, but Sherlock pressed closer into John's comforting embrace and started to sob. His entire body trembled as he whimpered and cried heavily into John's oatmeal coloured jumper. The doctor just let it happen, holding Sherlock close and rubbing his back. They didn't need words. They knew how to help each other without. 

It took time, but Sherlock fell asleep in John's arms. The blonde smiled softly, settling him back in bed and tucking the blankets up around his neck again. He smoothed them gently and just watched Sherlock's sleeping face. It was so peaceful and content. So much different than how it looked when he was awake. John sighed, looking at the folded up piece of paper he'd been given. He knew exactly what it was. He knew what he'd find if he opened it. A list of the drugs Sherlock had taken that night. Knowing what was there if he opened it, John finally broke down and cried silently for the first time in years. He hated this. All of this! Why? Of all people, why Sherlock Holmes? Why make a genius so addicted? Why couldn't it have been him or someone else? Someone unimportant? But someone like Sherlock? It just wasn't fair. And it killed John to see the man he loved going through this. The addiction, the pain, the suffering. It was awful. 

John sobbed quietly for a while, letting himself unload. Once he had, he wiped the tear stains from his face and blew his nose before looking at the paper once more. Not this time, he decided, tucking it in his pocket. He didn't need to look. He was a doctor. He knew Sherlock was okay. Or at least, he would be soon enough. John would make sure of that. He'd stay with Sherlock as long as it took. He'd never leave the man, no matter what it took to get him clean again. But he wasn't going to let this happen anymore. The blonde soldier sighed as he glanced back over at the lanky detective, holding his hand once more.

"It's okay," he whispered, smiling softly. "You're not alone. Not this time. This time, Sherlock, I'll stay. And every time after this."


End file.
